


tremble little lion man

by immolationfox



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: /dabs/, Abandonment Issues, Angst and Feels, Callsigns, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Is It Still Abandoment Issues If He Doesn't Want To Lose Them Via Death?, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Stamora Parallels, Teamwork, implied/referenced trauma, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22124896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immolationfox/pseuds/immolationfox
Summary: He stewed on it and thought about it and kept thinking about it, but didn't want to bring it up because she might reject the idea all together, and where would that leave them?/Or, the one where Kanan and Hera discuss callsigns
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	tremble little lion man

**Author's Note:**

> kanera angst ive been stewing on for the past month. you're welcome. also, i actually had a beta this time, so you can think @evaceratops for the lack of typos

Kanan scrubbed his arm across his eyes, stared at the darkness that was the crook of his elbow for a long moment. Sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bunk and stood up. He shuffled out of his room, down the hallway, swung down the ladder to wear Hera was sitting at the end of the round couch, fiddling with Chopper. She glanced at him with a smile as he took a seat on a crate on the other side of the room and fiddled with the secondhand sabacc deck. He set them down.

"Hera, I've been thinking," Kanan started, haltingly. Hera laughs lowly.

"Oh no, that's never a good sig-"

She cut herself off when she looked at him, hunched over, leaning his elbows on his knees and rubbing anxiously at the meat of his palm. She dragged a crate over in front of him and sat down, covering his hands with hers. 

"Hey. What's on your mind?"

It was several long moments before he spoke, swallowing, then swallowing again as he turned his hands over so Hera's palms rested against his.

"I was thinking," he said again. "About callsigns."

Callsigns?

"Callsigns?"

He nodded once. 

"Callsigns," he confirmed. There was another pause as his throat worked and she could practically see him trying to form all the right words in the right order. "We should have some. For security."

"I agree," Hera said carefully, when he didn't say anything else, brushing her fingertip across his pulse. "I was thinking about it earlier, actually. Spectre. Go along with the whole theme," she laughed softly, gesturing at the ship interior. The ship called the Ghost. 

Kanan didn't smile, ducking his head again and brushing his thumbs across the backs of her hands.

"Spectre then. You be Spectre Two, unless you're on the Ghost. I'll be Spectre One."

Hera frowned, confused, opened her mouth to ask why, but Kanan was speaking again.

"If they catch on, if someone hacks us, they'll be more likely to go after Spectre One. They'd be more interested in me, anyway. You could get away."

"Kanan-" She didn't know what to say. Where was this even coming from. "I can't let you do that. They'll kill you, or worse, if they captured you."

"And what happens if they get you, then?" he asked, suddenly loud, clutching her hands. "If they get you and- and torture or kill you, or worse- and I can't get you out? I can't carry your mission on without you, Hera- I can't-"

He stopped talking just as quickly as he had begun, hanging his head. When he began speaking again, he did not lift his head.

"Hera, I can't lose anybody else," he said, voice breaking.

"Oh… love." Hera slipped onto her knees in front of him, taking his weary head in her hands. "Oh, Kanan."

His eyes were red as he lifted his hands and closes his fingers around her wrists, pressing his fingertips into her pulse points and takes a shaky breath. She wanted to tell him that they would always be partners, always have a home on the Ghost, always have each others backs. She knew that would be a lie. Oh, Kanan. He'd been through so much and he was terrified of losing her too. 

"Just, please," Kanan began. "Just think about it."

Hera nodded, brushing her thumbs against his cheekbones, gently, carefully. She leaned forward, pressed their foreheads together for a brief moment.

"I will." She withdrew, looked him in the eyes for a few careful seconds, then touched his lips to the corner of his eye. "Get some rest."

/

Pinned down by troopers and his only cover was a demolished building. He felt like he was back in the War, but at least then, he could use both his saber and the Force, not to mention he had his master with him. Well, he thought. He had Hera now.

"Ghost, come in!" Kanan shouted into his comm. A pause filled with static. "Ghost!" he tried again. Rising panic began to fill his chest, Hera's name halfway out of his mouth before her own voice came bursting through the comm.

"Spectre One, this is Ghost! Come in, Spectre One!"

Kanan heaved a relieved sigh, collapsing back against the wall. Then he shifted back onto his feet as Hera continued, "Had a little trouble with some TIEs. Be ready for pickup."

"I'll send you my coordinates," Kanan said, lifting his comm to punch in the numbers, but Hera interrupted him.

"Don't bother. I'm closing in. Chopper, take over!"

Kanan turned, and sure enough, there was the familiar and relieving sight of the Ghost on its way over. And then the ramp was opening, and Hera was a welcome silhouette.

"Come on!" she shouted, and a burst of blaster fire over Kanan's shoulder had him ducking, then sprinting to the edge of the rooftop, returning fire without looking. He reached the edge without stopping, gathered the Force up, and leapt, hand reaching for Hera's outstretched hand.

They make contact, but the force of his momentum sends them tumbling to the ground, Kanan simultaneously using the Force to close the ramp, and catching the back of Hera's head in his other hand. They land hard, Kanan sprawled unceremoniously on top of Hera. The Ghost pitches as Chopper starts to guide them up and away, but Kanan makes no move to get up. His fingers soften against the back of Hera's skull.

"You called me Spectre One," he said softly. Hera wants to look away, but keeps eye contact. His eyes seem especially blue.

"I did," she answered just as softly.

Something pulls at the corner of Kanan's mouth, an emotion she can't describe.

He opened his mpith to speak again, but then Ghost pitched again, more violently, as the unmistakable feeling of plasma bolts striking the shields reached their ears, and Kanan rolled off and jumped to his feet, pulling Hera up.

"What's going on, Chop?!" she shouted, and listened carefully to Chopper warbling at them in what Kanan wants to call a reprimanding tone. Hera turned to Kanan as they reached the upper level of the Ghost. "Get to the guns!"

/

Hyperspace roared quietly without the ship and Hera hissed softly as Kanan sprayed a scrape on her cheekbone with bacta. Wordlessly, he sat back and let her look him over, jacketless, in a loose short-sleeved shirt. She skimmed lightly over a bruise blooming on his shoulder, skipped across his shoulder blades to tug the collar of his shirt and inspect a large scrape across the base of his neck and left shoulder.

"You called me Spectre One."

Hera stilled, though her eyes stayed resolutely fixed on the duracrete scrape. She swallowed. Continued working.

"Yes."

Kanan couldn't decide whether he wanted to know why or not, and couldn't decide which he would regret doing more. He didn't have to make the choice.

"It just seemed right, Kanan," Hera said softly. "It was less me making the decision, and more- it just came out."

She sat back, tossing the bacta patch wrapping into the disposal. Finally looked him in the eye, and this time, gave him a small smile. Leaned forward to take his hand.

"Besides, it meant so much to you."

Instead of acknowledging the tight feeling in his chest that made his lungs feel too small, and his heart feel too big, he smiled back crookedly. Squeezed her hand.

"Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if you caught my stamora paralells 👀😗✌


End file.
